


Zucchinis, Mushrooms, and Peppers

by compo67



Series: Chicago Verse [82]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Affectionate Dean, Domestic, Domestic Fluff, Established Dean Winchester/Sam Winchester, Established Relationship, Genderqueer Character, Genderqueer Sam, M/M, No Dialogue, Post-Series, Short & Sweet, Slice of Life, Spring
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-17
Updated: 2015-04-17
Packaged: 2018-03-23 10:38:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 769
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3765013
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/compo67/pseuds/compo67
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Every Sunday, Sam washes vegetables and Dean chops them.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Zucchinis, Mushrooms, and Peppers

Every Sunday, Dean preps vegetables for the week.

The farmer’s market in their neighborhood isn’t open for another few weeks, but he makes do with the grocery store on 18th. He drags someone’s ass out of bed at eight in the morning so they can have breakfast before going shopping. This week, they had omelets and coffee.

After catching up with the Manny butcher, Lon the produce guy, Carla the cashier, they haul home six full paper bags. It’s Dean’s job to unpack and organize, and Sam’s to prep the kitchen. Once that’s done, they take to their usual stations: Dean at the counter and Sam at the sink. This summer, Dean wants to repaint the kitchen. They’ll keep the white, but the cupboards could use help. It might take him some time, but he can sand, paint, and finish them. The outside of the house also needs attention; this last winter did a number on the grass. That can be Sam’s job. Dean likes to mow, but his knee doesn’t agree.

Their method with vegetables is simple and has been perfected over time.

Today, Sam is wearing a pair of denim shorts and a light gray v-neck. He’s barefoot, having kicked off his sandals when they got in half an hour ago. Distractions are plentiful when Sam leans forward and the long line of his throat becomes exposed.

Dean made no comment when last summer, Sam shaved his legs. He kept them bare all through winter, and last night, Dean felt the familiar scratch of stubble against his own legs. A few times, he moved around in bed just to feel that friction. It’s comforting. He just doesn’t know how to express it.

Zucchini was on sale—fifty nine cents a pound. Dean bought five. He’ll peel and chop most of it now for a casserole, and save the rest for pasta sauce later on in the week. Sam washes those first.

The cutting board was a gift from Charlie. It was one of three things on Dean’s wish list and the other two were Sam-related. She shoved the cutting board into Dean’s hands last Christmas and told him he can buy his own damn edible lube and cock rings.

Thinking of this, Dean smiles to himself.

It’s a damn fine cutting board. She got him a knife to go with it a month later, made out of some kind of steel found only in Oz. Whatever it is, it’s dishwasher safe and cuts like a katana.

Seven zucchini sit on a few sheets of paper towels. With a peeler, Dean slices off vertical pieces. He doesn’t take all the skin off. The skin holds things together. Bitter tops and soft bottoms are cut off and pitched into the compost bin. They’re gonna try this thing like the hipsters they’ve become. Dean bought a book about composting last week.

Done with the zucchini, Dean starts on the peppers Sam has finished washing. Slicing the bottoms off first, he cuts the sides, able to stay away from the annoying seeds on the inside. He varies the size of his chopping—dicing for certain dishes and leaving a few larger pieces for others.

Gradually, Tupperware fills up.

During the week all Dean will have to do is pick out the appropriate container and toss in the vegetables he wants to use.

Sam washes mushrooms next. These take more time. He uses a strainer first, rubbing off the dirt from each individual cap. The delicate bones in his fingers work quickly, missing nothing.

Tonight, they’ll have vegetarian zucchini casserole. Maybe a glass of red wine. Or white. Or just a beer or two. Sam won the right to choose their Sunday night movie. He has selected a Ken Burns documentary, but that’s okay. Dean found a wooden model of a covered wagon and he can work on that while Sam gushes over the brilliance of Ken Burns.  

The window over the sink is open.

It might rain in a little while. But the birds are back and chirping in the pine trees. Someone is grilling two houses down, and every now and again, melancholy Vicente Fernandez wanders in from someone’s stereo.

Dean closes a container with red peppers. He picks up a sliver of green pepper and bumps his shoulder against Sam’s.

He pops the pepper into Sam’s mouth.

A satisfying crunch sounds out.

Sam smiles, blushing, and munches happily.

Two minutes later, the mushrooms are done, and Sam leans over. He picks up his right leg and rubs it against the back of Dean’s left.

It’s a good day.

**Author's Note:**

> really fast update since i'm off to work. trying a different angle with no dialogue. :) this is also a ten minute free write, so excuse any roughness to it. 
> 
> also, i'm super excited for farmer's markets to start opening up. :D


End file.
